What's The Right Answer

Just ran out to the liquor store.

The young lady at the register asked me how I'm doing and of course I said "Not too bad!"

A more truthful answer would have been "I really don't know. I really don't fucking know."

Because I don't.

Since I started the second job I have been absolutely destroyed; barely functioning as a human being. Sad, depressed, angry, as hard and deep as any of those emotions can go.

But that's on me. I'm weak. I can't handle being forced to be responsible. And the bathroom mirror is laughing at me. Hysterically. Saying "Are you for real? Is that what you're doing with your life?"

Beyond that, we have a dicktator, and mindless, spineless sycophants actively working to destroy my life and yours. 

The only people that will survive this vicious, killing horror are those with money in the bank. That is the only thing that will protect you when this country comes crashing down.

I don't have any.

I want a creative career that pays well, I don't want anybody telling me what to do, where to do it, and what to wear when I get there.

I want my grandson to love and respect me.

I want to succeed at an appreciable level in the short time I have left, so my sons will have fond memories of "Dad's Last Stand."

You know, come to think of it - it is better that I said "Not too bad" rather than to speak the truth.

The fine, young lady wouldn't have given a shit anyway.

What Else You Gonna Do?

Well, well, well kids - a wild fucking ride. No?

Sometimes life is a gas and sometimes life gasses you. Right now we are locked into the torture chamber fighting to not breathe in the fumes, but sooner or later you will have to inhale - and then you'll be dead.

Just trying to cheer you up in my own inimitable way.

We all bounce around like pinballs for decades and decades thinking we are actually living life - then you are diagnosed with Stage 11 Delusion Cancer............Holy Shit I was wrong all this time! You kick it into high gear for "the time you have left", or you try to or you want to, but you don't really know what to do. Nobody ever taught you how to do it, because nobody fucking knows what is the best way to live a life.

Which reminds me, if you use the expression "living my best life" one more time, I will take a two by four to the side of your face. What is it with us humans making up all these stupid expressions to fool ourselves that we are happy? To try to fool everybody else. Would you rather fool yourself than to actually have some fun, grab some independence, and live like a rugged individualist? Can we actually fool ourselves? Do you really want to reveal your weakness to other people through the use of mindless cliches? 

I don't think so. We put on an act for everybody else, then we go home and cry alone in the dark with a joint and a shot glass.

"And when the morning light comes streaming in, you'll get up and do it again."

I actually believe it is the insidious effect of the marketing industry in this country. They make up this shit to sell you something and the next thing you know everybody is repeating it. Because we don't think for ourselves and we are exposed to marketing 28 hours every fucking day. We are brainwashed because our brains are weak and pus filled, vulnerable to anything that smacks of hope.

Because we ache for hope in a world that kills hope. A world that is deliberately geared towards killing hope. Quite the conundrum, eh?

What is the solution to life? Only the demented really know. You are on your own, buddy.

I recently read a book where the premise was that "normal" people are insane, and "insane" people have all the answers. That if you are locked up in an asylum you are actually living a better life than the rats performing on the treadmill.

There is something to that.

I am fucking insane to the core. The shit that goes on in my head would scare the shit out of you if you could read my mind. But I got it all under control, encased in lead two feet thick so nothing leaks out.

Which, of course, is why I have to eat three prescriptions every day to control my blood pressure.

And the wheel goes 'round and 'round.

I am addicted to 100 Foot Wave. I told you about it previously, watched the whole thing start to finish, but now I watch the episodes relentlessly over and over. Whenever I don't have the time to watch an entire movie (because I am a real up and comer, a player of immense proportions on the field of life who cannot squeeze enough successes into one day), I dial up an episode of 100 Foot Wave.

And I am riding those waves, baby. A real wild man, living easy and free. Radically different than the average wage earner, independent, a trend setter, getting my kicks on Route 66.

A couple of tokes on the vape, a sip or two of whiskey, and I am right there with Garrett, Cotty, Justine, Chumbo, Kai - I mean they accept me, man - they get me because they penetrate the two feet of lead that hides my true essence and experience me raw and real.

Holy shit what a ride, what fun.

"And when the morning light comes streaming in, I get up and do it again."

What a shame.

Fuck it - what else you gonna do?